A Bit of Reciprocity
by nottonyharrison
Summary: She straightens her dress and checks her makeup before she leaves, He runs a hand over her hair to flatten a couple of strands at the back, and runs a hand towel up her leg and then she's gone, the door closing softly behind her. His eyes lift to the mirror and he can see his hands shaking. A between the scenes fic, starting with Season 2 Ep 4
1. Chapter 1

He gets the text at nine. All it says is _I changed my mind_ and his first thought is to ignore it and have an early night. Marcus is asleep, he's sent the babysitter home, and he's laid off all his staff so he ain't got any of them to call on.

He calls his mom. He tells her there's a plumbing emergency in a building he owns downtown, and that he doesn't want to wake Marcus. She pays him out for a few minutes about making bad investments, reminds him about the building they lived in when he was a kid, and then makes him agree to lunch on Sunday with his sister.

"You know those old buildings sweetheart, they look pretty and they have all that nice crown moulding but those pretty fireplaces don't do crap in the middle of winter when the pipes freeze."

"I know Ma, can you help or no?" He sucks in a breath and feels a pang of guilt for a moment.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes but you tell that super he needs to sort his shit out and learn to call a plumber."

"Okay okay, I'll see you soon."

"Okay, Mijo. See you shortly. You pay me back with Sunday lunch ok? Your sister will be there with her new boyfriend and I want you to scare the crap outta him."

"Alright alright and Sunday too."

He hangs up and runs a hand over his face. Then he replies to the text.

_Your house 15 mins. _The ding of a reply is almost immediate.

_The bar from this morning 15 fine_

_..._

She's got a buzz going, to be honest. She can still walk straight and form a sentence but when she glances towards the door and spots him settling into a seat at the bar she can feel her facade slipping. Rio sees her, she can't tell if the look is curious, heated, or some weird and thrilling combination of both and she quickly glances away before Dean notices.

Not that he ever really pays attention to her in any way that actually matters. He's babbling about unprofessional service, and she just _does. Not. Care. Anymore_.

So she grabs her bag and excuses herself to the bathroom.

It's fifteen minutes before she returns, and Dean still hasn't managed to order a drink.

...

She straightens her dress and checks her makeup before she leaves, He runs a hand over her hair to flatten a couple of strands at the back, and runs a hand towel up her leg and then she's gone, the door closing softly behind her. His eyes lift to the mirror and he can see his hands shaking.

He didn't kiss her, not on the mouth. He recognised her husband as he turned in his chair trying to catch the wait staff's eye. If he's being honest with himself, the idea of her returning to the table dishevelled and obviously fucked out turns him on more than anything, but there's a time and a place and this definitely isn't it.

He left a mark on her neck, knowing it would be hidden by her hair. He'd left one on her inner thigh too, right after he'd pulled her underwear down and pressed her into the sink. The noise she'd made when he bit down on her ass and shoved two fingers into her is still fresh in his mind, and he bites his lip as he bends down to pick up the turquoise thong.

He second guesses himself for a moment and considers throwing them in the trash, but in the end he thinks a silent _fuck it_ and shoves them in his pocket.

...

His sister's new boyfriend is nice. Not the type she usual wealthy white collar douchebag she normally goes for. He's a nurse and his name is Josh, which is just fine. He's fine. Tina's happy, his mom is happy, everyone is fucking happy. It's fine.

Rio is definitely not fine. He's smiling and nodding and asking Josh about himself but all he can think about is how he took all the money out of the storage unit. He knows it's a dangerous move, staying in the game just so he has an excuse to see her.

It's so, so dumb.

He wonders if she got the envelope with her panties and the key in it. He feels his stomach drop and his chest feels hot and flushed. Tina looks at him weirdly, and he takes a drink of water.

"You okay, Boo?"

He clears his throat and smiles at her. "Yeah I'm fine, just feeling like I've got something coming on." Glances at Marcus, who's sitting at the head of the table. "You've been bringing home germs from school again, ain't you Marcus?"

Marcus looks up from where he's making a smiley face in his soup with crushed up chips. "You got them from your _girlfriend_."

Tina's mouth forms an 'O' and Rio's mom turns to him dramatically. Josh just sits there with a mild look on his face looking like he's reciting times tables silently to himself. Rio buries his face in his hand and pats Marcus on the forearm. Fucking kids.

"Your _girlfriend?_" His mom slaps him on the shoulder. "Why you not bringing her to Sunday lunch?"

"I don't have a girlfriend, Mom."

"He does Abuela! She's pretty and has orange hair and she's my friend Emma's mom."

"Emma's mom is not my girlfiend, Bubba."

Tina smirks. "You been hanging out with the PTA or something?"

"I hang out at the _park, _Christina. Where there are other parents. And Emma's mom lives with Emma's _dad_, Bubba."

"Alright then," Tina says.

A silence descends over the table for a few moments, before Josh breaks it. "What's your favourite thing to do at the park, Marcus?"

Marcus' eyes light up. "I like the monkey bars but Daddy says I need to wait my turn if there's someone else on them."

Tina snorts, and Rio hangs his head in defeat.

...

Beth's initial thought when she was signing for the courier, was that Kenny had got hold of one of her credit cards again and ordered a ridiculously priced pack of trading cards.

So she left it on the bench without even bothering to open it. It wasn't until Ruby pointed it out and asked why it was there, that she thought she should check the contents.

Which of course led to her opening the package, and having to come up with a quick cover to explain away the flush that crept up her body. "Kenny's been stealing my credit card ordering stuff on the internet again," she says with irritation. "He's been learning from his father, clearly."

Ruby side eyes her dubiously. "Oookayyyy."

Beth drops the package in one of the junk drawers and slams it shut. She can feel her hands shaking and opens the dishwasher in an effort to cover. Ruby moves around the kitchen helping her put away the dishes but stops for a moment when Beth is passing her a plate.

"You ok? Your hands are shaking."

"Yeah I'm fine, just too much coffee today. And I may have a minor hangover, don't tell anyone."

Ruby looks at her for a moment before cocking her head. "You got drunk without me?"

"Not intentionally." She thinks back to the night before when she had a few bourbons, and decided it was a good idea to reminisce about her bathroom encounter while in the living room watching reruns of Botched. She thought it would make her associate Rio with bad plastic surgery. It hadn't worked, she'd ended up having a kind of fantastic orgasm on the couch while four kids and her husband slept soundly upstairs, and some Hollywood wannabe was having her tits drawn on with Sharpie.

"Beth... Beth!"

"Whu- hey sorry I got distracted."

"Whatever it was it looked good, you holding out on me?"

"Nah, just... distracted."

"Mmmkay." Ruby narrows her eyes and goes back to stacking the plates.

'Hey Rubes?'

"Yeah?"

"Am I a good person?"

Ruby freezes for a moment, eyes wide, before she bursts out laughing. "Honey you are one hundred percent not a good person, good people are _boring_ okay? You're complicated and a perfectionist and you make me laugh and sometimes you make me so _goddamn angry_ but you know what? That's all of us. Because we're _those bitches._"

Beth nods and closes the dishwasher. "You're right, we're those bitches."

...

He's pissed with himself, that's what makes him take the tire iron to the dealership. He sits in the Corvette, watching Beth standing at the door to the office, and thinks about the smell of her hair, and the feel of her soft thigh in his hand. He sinks lower in the seat as he remembers what it felt like to feel her come around him as he told her al the dirty things he wanted to do to her. That he wants to fuck her on her marble kitchen counters, that he wants to see his come slip down her leg as she welcomes Dean home all the while making excuses about Rio's presence.

And now all he can thing about is eating her out, Beth sitting on that desk she's standing in front of right now, while Dean tries to sell the bright yellow dick joke Rio's currently sitting in.

So he smashes the car with an almost unrestrained glee, and when she tells him he can have whatever he wants he knows he shouldn't stop, because he knows she'll misinterpret it and suddenly fucking her again will have all this _baggage,_ but he doesn't care. It's illogical, but then so are most of his actions when it comes to her.

So he smiles breezily and says "Let's go make some money," and the next thing you know Beth is walking towards the back office, and Dean is just standing there like a spare dick at a wedding, clearly not knowing where to look.

"You are just scum, you know?" Dean says, kicking at the floor as if he's trying to rub off a non-existent mark.

Rio quirks his lips and shoves his hands in his pockets. 'Oh yeah?"

"You'll never get her, you now. No matter how long you play this game. We're meant to be together so you should just give up now and accept that she's mine and that's just the way it is." Dean is glaring at him now, jaw set as if he's trying to look tough.

Rio licks his lips, remembering the moment she let out a guttural moan when he wrapped his mouth around her clit and crooked his fingers in just the right way. He lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "She's not your fucking property, man."

Dean sneers. "Yes, she is. That's what marriage is all about, isn't it? Owning each other and making a commitment to be together through thick and thin? Not that I'd expect a piece of shit like you to get it."

"Naw _now_ I understand... whatever church you're goin' to isn't teaching you what marriage is all about." Rio advances on Dean until he's a foot or so from him and looks up into his eyes. "Nah bro it's all about a partnership." He looks Dean up and down, until his eyes settle on his crotch. 'And, you know, a bit of reciprocity."

Dean's face goes red with anger and he opens and closes his mouth a few times. Rio steps around him and walks towards the office.

"Go home, Car Man."


	2. Chapter 2

Annie made a crack not long ago, about Beth's semi-involunary abstinence. It was completely true, she hadn't had sex since Emma was conceived, and she'd kind of forgot what it was like. It wasn't really a problem if she was being honest with herself. She had a decent knowledge of her own body, and was fully capable of getting herself off with a bit of porn and her hands, so the _dried up twigs_ comment got to her a bit.

The semi-involuntary thing though,_ that_ was the problem. It wasn't that she didn't want to fuck someone, she just didn't want to fuck _Dean_. And being the loyal, doting housewife, fucking someone else wasn't really on the cards even after she found out _he _had been doing it anyway. If she said she didn't deep down blame herself she would be lying, even though she knows that it is _absolutely_ not an excuse it doesn't change the social conditioning that sneaks into her thoughts insidiously like cancer.

Her mom had always told her that the best thing she could ever hope for was to be looked after by a man. _Looked after_ had always been implied as a financial agreement more than anything else, and she wonders sometimes if her parents ever had sex for any reason other than to produce kids. The thought makes her feel ill every time but she never seems to learn her lesson.

She hasn't learned her lesson about Rio, either. She sees him a few times in the week following the altercation in the dealership and can't think of anything other than the bathroom every time. Then she remembers she's still married to Dean and feels gross.

It's the jaw that does it, the way it flexes just a tiny bit when she says something that pisses him off. It makes her feel powerful, like being antagonistic makes him want to push her up against a wall and press himself against her from hips to shoulders, and then she's right back to thinking about fucking him again. The feel of his lips on her cunt, his cock pressing against it, rubbing back and forth before he shoved into her hard and fast. The way his breath felt against her ear, hot and shuddering when he came.

_God._

...

He's been thinking about shaving his beard, but hasn't got around to it yet. Every time he picks up a razor he's reminded of the noise Beth made when he scraped it against her thighs for the first time. This kind of weird... he doesn't know how to describe it because it wasn't a moan or a whimper or a gasp or any of those cliche words it was more like a sharp inhale followed by a long, shuddering expulsion of breath because he couldn't describe what she did as _exhale_ as it just doesn't fit.

He had one moment, when they were catching up at the park where he thought he was going to say something stupid. Taking Marcus there had initially started out as a cover - an excuse to go catch up with Beth and her crew without drawing suspicion - but it hadn't taken long for Marcus to start playing with Emma and asking when they were going to hang out again. He was _this close_ to asking Beth and her kids around to his house for a play date, just so he could be around her.

He's pretty sure he hadn't been that close to doing something stupid since he was seven and thought it was a good idea to jump off the garage roof with a garbage bag as a parachute.

He leaves Marcus with his mom that night and gets hammered.

...

Annie knows there's something weird going on. So does Ruby. They've been talking about it at length late at night when the kids are asleep, long rambling calls about the energy in the room when Beth and Rio are together.

Annie says it first.

"They've fucked."

"_Annie what the fuck._" it's not a shout from the other end of the phone, more of a disappointed exclamation.

"Don't tell me you haven't been thinking it too, Ruby Hill. You see those two in a room together and you know he's had is Big Dick Energy all up in her vag." There's a scoff from the other end of the line and then silence. "I mean I would totally go there, he is hot like the surface of a white dwarf about to get all up in my black hole."

"_First of all, ew that is disgusting, and secondly white dwarfs are cool what school did you go to?'_

Annie blows a piece of hair out of her face and rolls her eyes. "Well _newsflash, _we didn't go to a school that taught astronomy okay so I get all my factoids from facebook and buzzfeed." She shuffles down a bit on the couch and props her feet over the arm. "Tell me it's not true though, gangfriend can get it."

"_I'm not attracted to violent sociopaths."_

"Oh come on, you would totally go there." Annie takes a sip of her drink.

_"Boy is all angles and lines, it would be like fucking a crowbar."_

It's so unexpected that Annie spits out a bit of her beer before swallowing the rest painfully, and laughs a deep belly laugh that probably wakes up Sadie.

The conversation gets lost after that.

...

There's a moment a week or so in to their agreement that Beth thinks they're going to do it again. she's leaning on the desk in what used to be Dean's office, glaring at Rio as he stands at the door with his arms crossed and expression closed and hard. She's just told him to go fuck himself.

And then he's pressed up against her leg, lips tickling her ear and hand on the desk trapping her.

"Now why would I do that." Its a statement, not a question.

She closes her eyes, and in the few moments she's staring at the back of her eyelids, the heat of his body disappears.

When she opens them, he's gone.


	3. Chapter 3

"But you'd look so much better on top of it."

She can feel the rush of rage and desire flowing through her as she tells him their deal is going to run fifty fifty, and almost..._ almost_ feels bad at the quiet "Mmmhmmm" reply.

She's sure he's rattled. She's fucking _positive_ he's running the interaction back through his brain and wishing he hadn't showed his hand and been left with a pair of threes.

So she watches him leave and on the drive home she lets herself think about what would have happened if she'd raised.

What would have happened if she'd crawled over the desk and told him to fuck her. Right there, right then, with the computer and the paperwork and the pens pressing into her back.

So when she walks into the house and it's clean and tidy, she does the next best thing for her in that moment.

...

When he was sitting on the picnic table in the yard waiting for her to appear in the window he feels pathetic for a moment. He's staring at the house, the light casting a shadow on his face, and he hates that he got one over her.

So when he's holding a gun at her chin, palms sweating against the cool metal of the grip, and Dean appears holding the kid his heart leaps.

And he realises he doesn't want either of them to have one over the other.

He doesn't want her to see him as just another man doing what men try to do.

...

When Ruby had asked if it was good, Beth was irritated. Her wrist was stinging with the ghost of Rio's hand, and her brain was racing in a way it hadn't since that day they had held up the store.

So a few days later, when she's sitting in her living room glass of wine in hand and the kids playing in the yard in relative peace, she calls.

"It was different."

There's silence at the end of the line for a few moments.

"Ruby?"

"_I heard you."_

Beth shuffles a bit on the couch and sits up, crossing her legs.

"_I didn't ask if it was different, I asked if it was good."_ That tone is still there, the painfully curious _I shouldn't want to know this but fuck if I do_ tone.

"It was... different."

"_When in the goshdarn heck did you find time to do it?_

"The bar from the other night... I took Dean there after dinner and we did it in the bathroom up against the sink."

"_Oh my _God." There's a sucked in breath over the line, and Beth presses her lips together. _"You still haven't answered my question."_

"It was good, okay? It was good."

"_How good? Like nice I almost had an orgasm but not quite but I enjoyed it kinda good, or fucking Jesus Christ this dude has a magic penis good?"_

Beth doesn't reply.

"_Oh, so it was the second one."_

Beth huffs. "Look, I haven't had sex in a while okay, anything was going to be the second one it doesn't _mean_ anything."

She swears she can hear Ruby rolling her eyes from three miles away. _"Sure, it doesn't mean anything. You had dirty sweaty bathroom sex with a gangster and it doesn't mean anything."_

"He went down on me." Beth stretches her legs back out and props them on the table, then takes a sip from her glass.

"_Oh wow so earth shattering."_

"Do you have any idea how long it's been since someone stuck his face between my legs? I'll give you a hint... it's been a _while_."

Ruby makes a pained sound and the line is silent again for a bit.

"_You want to fuck him again?"_

"No!"

"_You definitely want to fuck him again."_

"I do not!"

Ruby laughs. "_Bitch that boy got you turnt."_

Beth groans. "Look, you know I'm not the type for romance and flowers and all that shit okay?"

"_No, honey. You're practical. Most people would say control freak but you know I'm being diplomatic."_

"So I don't really know what to say." She sighs and leans back against the cushions. "I met him in the bathroom, and I lifted up my skirt. He kissed my neck and pulled my panties down and then there we were."

"_but how did it make you _feel?_"_

"Like I was wanted."

"_That's not an answer."_

"Okay, fine." Beth lets out a long breath. "It made me feel sexy."

"_Yasssssss."_

"It made me feel powerful, and the things he said to me... pfffff."

"_Oh my god..._ What?_"_

"Just you know, sexy... shit." There's a scream from outside and she puts her glass down firmly on the table. 'Look, I gotta go the kids are at that point where they require adult supervision."

"_You can't leave me hanging babe."_

"I love you."

She hangs up.


	4. Chapter 4

He's aware he's starting to act like a stalker.

Honestly? He doesn't really care... because he knows... He _knows _that he's not. He's just keeping an eye on the prize and the prize isn't Beth. It's the nice clean cash that's he's going to have when he's done with her.

It is.

It _is._

_It. Is._

He keeps telling himself it's all about the money when he's got a lockpick in the keyhole to her bedroom door. He's still repeating it like a mantra as he opens the door and his eyes fall on the lump under the covers.

He says it out loud when her eyes glint against the ambient light coming through the sheer curtains and he's trapped under her gaze.

He shuts the door and leans against it. She's still looking at him and he feels hot all over, like someone's just shot a jet of steam up his back and the room is already on fire.

"Is there a reason you're in my bedroom at one in the morning?"

He lets the back of his head hit the glass, and stares at the shadow of the light fixture on the ceiling. He says nothing.

And when he hears the rustle of covers he just knows she's pulled the comforter back. He unzips his jacket and drops it to the floor, kicks off his shoes, and tugs off his t shirt and jeans before crawling into bed beside her. He lies there, staring a the ceiling for a long time before he speaks.

"I'm not sorry."

She doesn't reply, and five minutes later he's asleep.

...

There's a heavy hand against her breast, and she wakes with a start. Her back is warm, and there's a body pressing hard up against her. A body with an erection and soft lips that are resting gently against her neck.

She know she should stiffen when she remembers who it is, but she doesn't. She just relaxes and squirms a little bit until a puff of air caresses her cheek and she feels Rio's cock grind into her ass. She considers moving away for a few moments, letting him drop back off and just remember a good few seconds in a dream, but then she considers her own needs and remembers that fifteen minutes a few weeks ago where she felt something click in her brain which, until then, had never really fully engaged.

She undoes the top three buttons of her pyjama top and guides his hand inside until it's cupping her breast.

She knows he's awake now, his mouth is open and has moved just behind her ear, like he's propping himself up just a tiny bit. His cock is between her thighs, rubbing hard against the soft material covering her cunt, and she lets out a harsh sigh before tugging down the back of her pants until they're low enough for him to rub himself against her without a barrier

"_Fuck.'_

It's him that says it, his breath hot against her throat as he squeezes a nipple and stills against the rest of her body. He's burning up, her back is a full degree or so warmer than her front, and she rolls her hips hard into his before grabbing the hand that's spread across her breast and moves it to her ass until she's shoving his index and middle fingers into her pussy.

Neither of them breathe for a moment. She holds his hand there until he curls his fingers. The angle is all wrong, and she knows it would be better if she rolled over and faced him, but she doesn't. She doesn't want to give him that power.

She's slick and wet and his breath is shuddering and harsh. "Jesus, you're..." She hears him swear under his breath before he tugs his fingers out of her and circles her clit.

So she tells him to fuck her, says _stick your dick in me, _and he does.

She thinks about telling him to wrap it up first, but then remembers she's clean and had her tubes tied years ago, and at this point in time she just doesn't give a _shit_ about where his dick has been she just wants it in her.

And it's not like last time she didn't revel in his come dripping down her legs, at the gentleness as he cleaned her up afterwards watching her in the mirror of the badly lit bathroom. She turns her head around and grabs the back of his head until their lips are touching. It's soft and she can feel his stubble scratch against her chin, but it's not enough.

So she rolls on top of him, until the angle is awkward and her shoulders are digging into his pecs, and then his jugular and he's coughing and telling her he can't breathe. He's only half in her so she arches her back and grinds hard down against him until he groans.

"I gotta... fuck I'm done ."

She can't help but smirk as she lets him slip out of her and rolls over until her shoulder is back hard against the mattress and he's gasping and shivering next to her as he comes.

"Seriously?"

He's breathing hard, and runs a hand up her side. "Yeah... I need something to..."

She's already tugging her pyjama pants off before he finishes. They're bunched up into a ball when she drops them behind her back, and she can hear the scrapes as he wipes them against his stomach and chest. She briefly considers getting out of bed and going for a shower bur instead tugs the top off, and lets him trail his lips down her shoulder as he tosses the soiled clothes to the floor.

"You owe me now."

"Oh yeah?" He murmurs the question against her skin as he trails his fingers back to her clit, but she doesn't let him reach his destination. Instead she rolls onto her back and flattens her palm against the back of his head and shoves him hard down towards her thighs. He doesn't need a lot of encouragement and it's not long before she's squirming and gasping as he circles _almost_ the right spot.

"A bit lower."

And then she lets out a low, keening moan as he flattens his tongue hard against her clit.

"Fuck, stick your fingers in me _Jesus fuck you asshole_."

She knows he's laughing, she can feel his shoulders jumping a bit as she runs her hands from his scalp to his back, and then back up again until she's gripping his neck and he makes a noise half way between surprise and _do that again._

So she does it again, and he lasts around thirty seconds before he's ripping his face away from her pussy and looking at her with wide, black pupils.

She tells him to fuck her, and he does. He fucks her until her heels are digging hard into his ass, and his mouth is open and gasping against hers, and she's feeling something she hasn't felt in years.

And when she comes, hard and shuddering with eyes closed and head tipped back towards the headboard, she tells him he's not allowed. She barely gets it out, but he sighs and buries his head in her neck and tells her he knows.

...

He lies there, staring at the ceiling as she heads to the bathroom. The room is spinning, and he's got a raging hard on worse than anything he's had since he was seventeen. He doesn't let himself touch it.

He can hear her peeing in the bathroom and sighs, dropping his hand over his eye and rubbing his thumb and forefinger hard into his eyebrows. He doesn't hear her come back, too distracted by his own thoughts. He's pissed.

Not with her. He's kind of proud of her.

Alright he's not pissed.

He doesn't know what the feeling is.

"You want some coffee?"

He makes a sound of agreement and doesn't move his hand.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ain't no money in that.'

It's kind of fucked up, how he gets in the car and just drives off. He doesn't look back or wait for her to get back in her own car safely, he just shuts the door, presses the ignition, and puts is foot on the accelerator.

He's half way home before he feels his jaw unclench. He thinks about Marcus and how he'll be asleep in his bed, the sitter probably watching Jimmy Kimmel down in the living room, and he goes soft. He remembers the other morning, the sound of Beth's kids running down the hallway toward the kitchen as she called out for breakfast, and bites his lip as he remembers the way Beth wrapped her hand around his neck and squeezed when his face was buried between her thighs.

He remembers the soft thunk of the coffee cup as she sat it down on the bedside table, next to the pillow his face was buried in.

He remembers her telling him to drink his coffee and get the fuck out of her house.

...

It's well after eleven when he finally walks into the house. The late night TV is softly playing, and Rebecca is stacking the dishwasher.

"He asleep?"

"Yeah, he went down about eight-thirty. Made me play Iron Man and Captain America for a solid hour though, I made the grave error of letting him watch Avengers Assemble." She runs the sink for a bit, and cleans down the sides with a cloth. Rio looks around the living room and his eyes fall on a printed Pooh Bear blanket that's draped over the side of the couch.

"He didn't take Blanky?"

Rebecca chuckles. "He says he's a big boy and is too old for it now." She dries her hands on a towel and drapes it over the oven door handle. "Apparently Captain America doesn't need Pooh to get to sleep so neither does he."

Rio presses his lips together for a moment and runs a hand over his scalp. "Hey... I know this is kinda bad form but any chance you can hang out for another half hour? I left a bit of a loose end and if I leave it until the morning it might end up unravelling and fuckin' everything up." He feels bad asking, and even worse about the lie, but Rebecca nods and just fills up the kettle.

"Sure, no problem. It's not like I have far to go." She gestures through the window to where the lights are on in the neighbouring house, and he can see her boyfriend moving around in their kitchen. "If it's okay with you I can just take the baby monitor next door and listen out for anything mischief."

He nods and pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket. "Yeah he'll be fine - once he's out he's done." She's getting a teabag out of a jar as he tosses a thanks Bec over his shoulder and closes the door softly behind him.

...

The car is sitting in the garage around the back of the house. He wrinkles his nose at the overgrown yard and random filthy furniture scattered around as he picks his way over what's left of the lawn towards the building. There's movement inside, and he pulls the side door open with no warning.

Two pale faces turn towards him under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and one of them swears.

"Hey boys." A third face is inside the car, arm stretched under the dashboard as if reaching for something. 'That betta be the airbag you're reaching for there, Rodney. I ain't got time for none of your shit tonight.'

"What's goin' on?" One of them asks. He doesn't really care which one.

"I hear you met my business partner today."

"Oh yeah, who's that?" The guy is wearing the worst fake confused face he's ever seen.

Rio curls his lip in a sneer and glares at the man - Goober he goes by - The one with the ginger hair and the scruffy beard. His shirt has a curry stain down the front and his collar is torn. "The redhead with the attitude."

"Fuckin' bitch."

Rio raises an eyebrow and cocks his head. "Oh, you gon' call her a bitch? Well that's just fuckin' smart isn't it?"

"Showed up asking for her kid's fuckin' binkie like I give a shit."

Rio pulls the gun out of the back of his jeans and lets his hand hang by his side. "Well, she's my bitch. So I would suggest you give me the goddamn blanket or you're droppin' an extra twenty Gs on the next car."

Goober reaches in through the back window, pulls out a pink lump, and hands it over.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He hears Rodney chuckle from inside the car and mutter something. "What was that, Rod? Got something to share with the group?"

"I said, I had something hard for her this afternoon." He giggles. "She wouldn't join me in the basement though so it went to waste."

Rio sucks in a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment.

"See here's the thing boys..." He fixes his eyes on Goober and doesn't blink. "That woman is a fuckin' ginger menace. She will take you down without remorse and then you'll thank her for it. She will figure out your One. Weak. Spot. And then the next thing you know the feds have got you in cuffs and you're makin' your one phone call to your ex-wife in the hopes you can pull a Hail Mary out your ass." He grips the blanket hard and tucks his gun back into the holster beneath his jeans. He's aware everyone knows the story of his arrest, but he's never told anyone who landed him in cuffs. "Watch your back."

He leaves.

...

He texts Rebecca when he gets home to let her know to turn off the baby monitor. Marcus' blankie is still draped over the couch, and he sighs and picks it up.

He's is sound asleep when he peeks through the cracked door on his way to his room. His thumb is in his mouth, and his arm is wrapped around the comforter.

Rio tucks Blankie under Marcus' arm and kisses him on the forehead.

He pulls out his phone and takes a photo, and before he can think better of it sends an iMessage to Beth with the caption mine too.


	6. Chapter 6

The look on Ruby's face when she walks into the living room is murderous. Her eyebrows twist and raise, and her mouth puckers as if someone shoved an unripe lemon in and then sewed her lips shut.

"Please, _please _tell me you knitted her a new one and it wasn't just hiding in a closet."

Jane is curled up on the couch watching Spider-Man with her pink blanket slung over the back of the couch. Beth looks up from the ironing board and shrugs.

"He got it back."

"Who got it back?"

"_Who do you think?_" Beth puts the iron down and leans over to unplug the cord. "He left it in the mailbox yesterday. Asshole could have just given it to me like a goddamn normal person." She's irritated. Jane has been sick and home from school all day, Dean refused to stay saying he 'had three sales lined up at the dealership', so she's taken a family day. There's no shipment arriving, but she's going to have to stay late for the next few nights to catch up on the paperwork.

Jane looks up from the TV and lets go of the juicebox straw she's been sucking on. "Mommy said two bad words."

"I know baby, I'm sorry mommy's just tired." Beth sighs and picks up the washing basket. Ruby trails behind her as she heads for the bedrooms.

"Why on earth would he do that?"

"I don't know, remind me how much better at this shit than I am... make me feel useless... who knows?" She opens the door to one of the kids' rooms and drops off a small pile of clothes. "Ever since we made this deal it's like half of him wants to treat me like an equal and the other half wants to put me in my place." She blows her bangs out of her eyes and flops down on the bed "I'm getting whiplash."

Ruby snorts. Beth closes her eyes and she feels the bed dip. "Babe, you did the nasty in a bathroom while your husband sat there trying to order a drink, then screwed him for half of his profits. Boy probably feels emasculated."

"Oh, trust me he doesn't."

"What, you suddenly the gangster whisperer or something?"

She looks at her matter of factly. "He absolutely gets off on being dominated, trust me."

Ruby chuckles. "Honey if you think what you did in that bar was him being the sub, you need to watch some porn and write some notes."

Beth doesn't say anything, just rubs her forehead and sighs.

"Wait." There's a shove at her shoulder and she cracks one eye open.

"What?"

Ruby's face is only a few inches from hers and her eyebrows are twisted in that same way they were a few minutes ago downstairs. "You fucked him again, didn't you?"

"..._Nooo?_"

"Oh. My. God. You did! You dirty bitch!" Ruby drops backwards dramatically and throws an arm over her face. "Oh my god. _Oh my GOD._ What did you _doooo?_"

"Ruby come on."

"Don't do this to me _please I need to know like I need air_."

Beth lets out a long sigh and stands up, grabs the basket, and heads towards her own bedroom to put away the rest of the laundry. Ruby trots behind her doggedly.

"Pleasepleaseplease I'm begging you."

Beth whips around and glares. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

Ruby steps forward and takes the basket from her hands and places it on the bed, then turns back around and puts her hands on either side of Beth's face, gently caressing her cheeks. "Because I need to know the second dicking you've had in five years resulted in an excellent orgasm. Because I love you."

It's unexpected, and Beth can't help but bark out a laugh. "Yes, I had an orgasm. Are you happy now?"

"I need details. Did he eat you out again? What position did you do it in? What did you _do to him oh my god_."

"It's... complicated."

"_Beth!"_

"Okay fine... He came into my bedroom a couple of weeks ago in the early hours of the morning and looked miserable so I let him crawl into bed with me and we just slept, ok?"

"Oh great, so kinky." Ruby drops her hands.

"And then the next morning I woke up and he was... you know... against my back and I just kind of went with it until I accidentally discovered he kinda likes being choked, ok?"

Ruby's eyes go wide and she is silent.

"And he kind of came really sort of... embarrassingly fast so I made him..." She moves her hands in a circle around her crotch "you know until I told him to fuck me again and then after I was done I told him he wasn't allowed to finish and kind of... left."

Ruby opens her mouth in a silent exclamation until she finally chokes out "Who _are_ you?"

"And then I made him coffee and kicked him out."

Ruby just groans and faceplants on the bed.

...

"So when are you bringing her for dinner, Mijo?"

He's setting the table for three when the question comes. He wasn't expecting her to say it, so the path of the plate to the table has a slight stutter in it, but he's pretty sure he wasn't too obvious. "When am I bringing who to dinner Ma?"

"The woman who's got you acting all broody and lovesick."

Rio presses his lips together and lets out a breath through his nose before he turns to his mom. "I'm not broody and lovesick, I'm busy and tired."

"Busy and tired because you're trying to fit romance into your life on top of being a parent and doing... what you do." She refuses to acknowledge his chosen career, instead replacing the words with hand waving and finger flicking.

"_Marisol._" He never calls his mother by her given name and she glares at him. "Let it go, it's nothing."

"Marcus doesn't seem to think it's nothing." She glances towards the kitchen where his son is sitting at the island drawing something with crayons. "He says you look at Emma's mom like you look at his mommy sometimes."

Rio frowns and starts laying out the cutlery. "Well Marcus is wrong, it's just business."

Marisol wiggles her eyebrows and smirks. "Business with special benefits?"

"Let it go."

"How many times have you kissed her?"

He ignores her and starts walking towards the kitchen to get glasses. He slams the cupboard door a bit harder than he needs to. "I need to get you some soft closes on those," he says as he walks back to the table deliberately avoiding eye contact.

"Oh _Rio._ You didn't."

"Didn't what, Ma?"

She leans closer to him and hisses. "Did you sleep with her?"

His chest clenches and he remembers the way Beth wrapped her fingers around his neck, the sound she made as she came, the... he shakes his head and snaps himself out of it. His shoulders drop and he huffs before turning to glare at her. "Is it really a good idea to discuss my sex life while my son is sitting fifteen feet away?"

"We've got music playing."

Rio rolls his eyes. "Yes, Mom. I slept with her. Twice. And before you ask, yes it was good, and yes I want to do it again but I'm not going to because she's my _business partner_."

Marisol's eyes go wide and she gasps. In Rio's eyes it's way too dramatic, but he knows she lives for these tiny moments where she can be as obnoxious about her indignation as humanly possible. "You _work_ with her? She's in _the business? _A nice suburban white lady like her?"

"Yes... wait how do you know she's a suburban white lady?"

"Marcus helped me do some facebook stalking. He plays soccer with her daughter, you know?"

Rio finishes laying out the glasses and looks towards the kitchen. "Come on Pop, time for dinner." He glares at his mom. "It's nothing, okay just let it go."

Her smile is bright. "Okay honey, whatever you say."

Rio just rolls his eyes and goes to take the moussaka out of the oven.


	7. Chapter 7

"Morning Mrs Boland!"

Beth smiles at as she walks towards her office and turns on her heel, walking backwards for a few steps. "Morning, Richard. Please tell me you're closing on that deal this afternoon."

Richard grins back. "Got the ring on me right now." He pats his front pants pocket. "Oh, and there's a guy in your office, says he has an appointment."

Beth hesitates before thanking him and turns around, struggling to keep up the breezy walk. She can see the silhouette behind the half open blinds and sucks in a deep breath before opening the door and stepping through with as much nonchalance as she can manage. He doesn't turn around.

"Something up?" She asks as she shuts the door a little harder than needed. He doesn't look up from his phone as he replies.

"We need to talk."

"Great. Talk then," she says tersely. She drops her purse on the desk and walks around it. He's still scrolling through something on his phone when she glances at him, so she places both hands on the cool timber and leans over. "Talk."

He looks up and his mouth twists in something between a smirk and a pout. "Calm your tits. I just gotta finish this."

"Rio." She huffs and glares at him. He types something and locks his phone before turning his eyes back to hers. "If you're going to show up in my office unannounced at least keep your fucking phone in your pocket." She pushes off the desk and sits down hard in the chair. It rolls back a tiny bit and she has to pull herself back to a comfortable position.

"I am trying to sort out a deal that is going to make you a bunch of cash.' He purses his lips and his nostrils flare. 'You know what? I think we need to renegotiate."

She doesn't reply, just looks at him for a solid thirty seconds. He's goes back to doing something on his phone. She can see a vein running down the side of his forehead disappearing into the hairline at his temple. There's a small cut on his chin, and he's clean shaven for the first time she can remember. She decides he's not going to respond at all and opens her computer, types in her password, and opens up a spreadsheet of the incoming shipments that week.

It's a few minutes before she hears a rustle and the sound of the blinds being closed. She ignores it and instead focusses on pulling the projected sales value of the incoming inventory. He's in her line of vision a few moments later, leaning on her side of the desk right next to the computer.

She glares up at him. "You're in my way."

He pushes at the chair until it swivels a bit and she's forced to look directly at him. He lifts his foot up and places it between her legs, sole of his shoe resting on the plush leather. 'I said we need to renegotiate."

"And that means you need to close the blinds?" Her eyes are wide with mock innocence.

He pulls his gun out from behind him and places it on the desk. Her heart speeds up a bit and she feels sick.

"Oh... so we're doing that kind of negotiation?"

He licks his lips and bites down for a moment as if he's thinking. "We change to sixty forty but my guys start doing the drops."

"No." She crosses her arms to hide her shaking hands.

"This isn't a negotiation."

"It's in the word renegotiation, so what you're really here to do is threaten me out of ten percent."

"I ain't threatening you."

"Oh yeah? Sure looks like it from here." She gestures at the gun and he pushes the chair backwards hard enough to hit the glass of the window. He picks the gun up, ejects the clip, and empties the chamber. He catches the bullet as it pops out, and the gun goes back on the desk. The next thing Beth knows he's leaning over her, hot breath against her ear, hand running up her thigh.

"Is it so hard to believe I want you to be safe?" His hand is gripping her hip now, and the other is leaning against the glass behind her. She hears the squeak as he moves his palm against the window and feels his body jerk a tiny bit as if he's catching himself.

"You're not interested in me, you're only interested in your money." She buries her face in his neck and slides her lips up until her teeth catch on his earlobe and he sucks in a harsh breath. "And I suppose you think you're special? You're a way for me to pay my mortgage."

His fingers dig into her hip, and there's a disturbance in the air around her shoulder, like his arm is shaking a tiny bit. His head pulls back until his lips are hovering over hers. "That's not very nice."

Beth smirks, and tips her head back. "I'm not a nice person. Are you only just learning that now?"

Rio sets his mouth in a hard line and lets out a huff of breath from his nose before pushing away from her. "Sixty forty.'

"We stay as we are." Her tone is firm and steady, the complete opposite to how she's feeling.

'Or what?"

She raises her eyebrows and is quiet for a moment. She knows there's no point in bluffing and telling him she'll inform to the Feds, He knows it's a risk she'll never take, so she takes a leap.

"Fifty fifty... and your boys do the drops." She gets up from the chair and crowds him against the desk, picks up his gun, and loads the clip. "You agree to that, and I'll let you fuck me again." She slides the gun back into his waistband and pulls his shirt down over it.

His back is rigid, and his voice is rough and strained as he responds. "I thought you said I wasn't interested in you."

"I was bluffing."

He huffs a breath out of his nose. "What if I told you I'm not interested in you?"

Beth runs her hand up his chest and to his neck, until she's pressing her thumb lightly against his Adam's apple. Her eyes are wide in mock innocence. "Then you take the same deal, just without the fucking."

...

He's furious. He's let her get cocky and really he could take her if he wanted, strong arm her into a thirty seventy split but he can't do it because the way her lips are tickling at his cheek, and her hand is playing at his neck are making him weak and he's so mad at himself he could scream.

So he does the only thing that makes sense to him in the moment. He kisses her. Nothing like the messy, haphazard ones from the other week in her room. He kisses her like he means it, lips slick against hers, sucking on hers, pressing hard into hers until he knows they're going to be rough and sore for the rest of the day. He bites down on her lower lip and she gasps, finally responding properly and grabbing the back of his neck until they're both breathing hard through their noses and he's unbuttoning her jeans and shoving his hand inside, grabbing her ass and pulling her close until her breasts are pressed hard up against his chest and his hard-on is firm against her hip.

It's not until she's gasping an obscene word against his lips that he realises he's in too deep. That he's going to end up doing something stupid if he keeps falling into this trap, so he pulls away and turns around. He leans over the desk for a few moments and lets out a long shaky breath before he turns back toward her. Beth has stepped back and is buttoning her pants back up and tucking her shirt in to the waistband. Her lips are red and puffy, and her cheeks are flushed.

He clears his throat and she looks up from adjusting her buttons. "Ok fine. I'll have my guys do the drops and you keep your fifty percent."

She raises her eyebrows. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He bites his lips and can't help but let his eyes drop down to his crotch, hard on obvious through the material of his jeans. Beth flicks her thumb at the corner of her mouth where it's still glistening a bit with his saliva. "Why?"

Rio runs his hand over his scalp and reaches his other arm out in a gesture of uncertainty. "Who the fuck knows."

He turns and walks out the door. It slams behind him, and a couple of the salespeople look over in surprise. He glowers in response and looks directly at the guy he spoke to when he came in, who is fidgeting with something in his pocket and looking like he's about to piss himself.

"Your boss is a real bitch, isn't she?"


	8. Chapter 8

"It's over."

Beth isn't looking at him as she says it, and for a moment Rio lets himself be hurt. Her robe swishes as she walks quickly to the bathroom. He doesn't let his eyes follow her and instead plays with the edge of the sheet that's rumpled around his hips.

He waits until she turns the shower on, until he can hear the sound change from the water hitting the walls to hitting a body before he swings his legs off the bed. His shirt and jeans are sitting in a messy pile by the dresser. It takes a while to find his underwear, it's buried down the foot of the bed under the covers. He sees the way the bottom sheet is pulled off the mattress and his mind wanders for a moment to when Beth was under him, hand gripping tightly to the blue cotton and eyes fluttering shut as he shifted her hips and pressed hard into her.

He shakes his head and pulls on the boxer briefs.

His eyes fall on the small stack of cash as he's doing up his shirt. One of the buttons is missing and he pokes the tip of his little finger through the buttonhole and bites his upper lip and walks over to the bedside table. He's not surprised when he finds a few pens in the top drawer and scribbles a quick note on the top bill before pulling it out of the stack and dropping it by the lamp.

His lips twist in a mean smirk and he walks out to the patio. With a sharp flick of his wrist he shuts the door, the glass making a satisfying rattle as the it slams.

...

Beth doesn't get in the shower right away, she carefully unties the robe and slides it off her shoulders to examine her skin. She presses at the red marks on her body, and the slowly purpling bruise on her shoulder where he bit her.

She wonders for a moment if he'll have finger marks on his neck where she squeezed while she was riding him, and feels a rush of power. Then she remembers even if he did the tattoo would mask them. Then she feels angry that she's disappointed.

She tries, she really does. She tries to forget about his hands on her body, squeezing her tits and caressing her belly. She tries to shove the memory of his lips on hers, the way he breathed and gasped between kisses, the way his mouth was so soft and lush.

She gets in the shower and turns it all the way around to cold but gives up after a few moments of shivering. Her hands drift to her clitoris and she slides her middle finger against it as she thinks about how he looked at her while she was on top, hand gripping his neck, hair hanging down around her face. His eyes were wide and glazed, staring at the ceiling. His mouth was open, lower jaw pushed forward, breath coming loud and hard with tiny grunts she could feel in her palm every time she slammed down on him. In that moment she swore she felt something tug deep in her chest, but she'd pushed it aside to deal with later and pressed him harder into the pillow.

And now that later is here she's done exactly what she's good at. Bullshitting.

And deep down she knows that she's bullshitting herself, because she's never really going to be out. She's recognizing the telltale signs of addiction she thought she'd escaped. The secrets, the hiding, the lies and half truths. She swore she would never be like her mother, but here she is, unable to turn away from something that'll poison her whole life just like the gin her mom hid in the laundry closet.

It's not just the crime though, it's him. It's the way he looks at her, the way his lashes lower and his lips twist. The way he pushes her hair away from her cheek, finger barely touching her skin.

It's the way he eats her out, tongue rough and flat between her thighs before becoming slick and gentle and slipping around that spot that makes her thighs shake and legs tense until she gets a cramp in her calves.

It's the way he holds her while he's inside her, arm up her back and hand curved over her shoulder, with the other around her thigh as he fucks her hard into the mattress.

It's the way his breath comes in stuttering gasps in her ear before he bites down on her lobe and hikes her up higher, hitting a spot that makes her gasp in a tiny bit of pain before she pulls him deeper and tells him to use her however she wants.

It's the way he runs his hands over her skin and kisses her softly as she comes down, like they could do this forever and it would be normal.

So it's there, in the shower, that she realizes that she's always been a victim of the family curse.

And she's not mad that she's addicted. She's mad that she's ignored the signs all these years. The perfect home with nothing out of place. The immaculate kitchen and the gourmet meals six nights a week.

And then half an hour later, after she's stripped the sheets and dumped them in the washer with enough detergent to wash out the dried patch they left on them, she finds the hundred-dollar bill on the bedside table.

Don't forget the Plan B.

"Asshole."


	9. Chapter 9

"Ink guy, huh?"

Beth's heart is in her throat as she turns toward him. He's standing with his hands loosely clasped at his front, head cocked to the side slightly, and a glare fixed on her that she can only describe as a combination of accusatory and cold.

"Yeah, from Missouri."

He presses his lips together and closes his eyes for a moment. "Was shootin' me his idea or yours?"

She takes a sip of her drink and turns back to the bar. "His." The ice rattles as she puts the glass down gently. "Is this it then?"

He doesn't move and she shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, and she squeezes the cold glass until her knuckles go white and the pads of her fingers start aching from the cold.

"Finish your drink, we're going for a drive," he says. His voice is a bit rough, and she cringes.

"I'm good, thanks."

"Get your ass up off that stool." She looks up at him and clenches her teeth. "_Now._"

Beth slides to the edge of the seat and stumbles a bit as her feet connect with the floor. Her knees feel like jell-o and her ankles feel weird. Rio is already walking to the front of the bar, and she lets out a sigh of relief that he's not headed to the back alley.

The Mercedes is parked a few spaces down, and he's standing by the back fender. "Get in." She reaches for the passenger door, and he shakes his head. "In the back."

Her hands are shaking as she opens the door, and she's barely able to lift herself in. Her foot catches on the side runner and she knocks her shin on the hard sill. He presses the child lock button as soon as she slams the door.

He doesn't say anything on the drive. Familiar buildings pass, and every now and then her eyes flit from the window to his skin, the lights of the city flashing across his face highlighting the scrape on his cheekbone and dark circles under his eyes. "What happened to your face?"

He glances back her in the rear view mirror. "Walked into a door."

They don't say anything after that.

…

It's the building. She knew they were heading there from the start, initially just a hunch and then from the memories of following him the day she broke into the apartment. Her skin feels hot and clammy as she stumbles out of the car and follows him in through into the lobby. She hears little other than the blood rushing to her head, and the distorted click of her heels against the tile floor.

Her legs are still shaking, and she struggles to stumble up the stairs behind him. When they get to the door and he unlocks it she winces at the loud jangle of the keys and glances at the window, wondering for a moment if the glass and subsequent sudden impact with the ground would kill her faster.

She looks at the spot he fell, even months later she can still hear the strangled splutter that rose up from his throat. There's a faint stain on the floor where the pool of blood soaked in through the varnish, and she realizes it must have been weeks before someone came to clean it up.

He walks to the spot, and pulls his gun out of the back of his pants. She briefly thinks about attempting to flee, but instead steps further into the apartment, eyes on his and chin high.

And then he does something she's not expecting. He leans down and puts the gun on the floor, in the middle of the stain.

"What, you going to do it with your bare hands? Strangle me? Punch me in the head until my brain's just sloshing around in there and leaking out my ears?" Her voice is steady, but to her it sounds like a recording playing from another room.

"Okay, so we're going to talk this out." His voice is clipped and sharp, like a razor through a piece of paper.

Beth starts, and the air leaves her lungs for a moment before she manages to re-set and consider. "What is there to talk about? You kidnapped me, I shot you, now you kill me. End of story."

His hands are back to being clasped, she can see his thumb rubbing at the other hand. She looks up and his tongue darts out before he bites down on his lower lip and meets her eyes. He gestures to the floor.

"You get why I'm upset though, right?"

"You _kidnapped me_."

"You shot me. Three times."

Something in her snaps, and she stares at the ceiling for a moment before leveling a fiery glare at him. "You _fucking kidnapped me! From my home. And then put a gun in my hand. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?_" She doesn't care that her voice is probably carrying through the walls, that someone might call the cops, or that the gun is still right next to his foot waiting for him to pick it back up.

"_Three times, Elizabeth."_ If she didn't know better she would swear she heard his voice waver as it echoed through the empty space.

"_Yeah well you need to be prepared to deal with the consequences of your actions._"

"_Oh look who's suddenly all about the consequences, did you consider there would be consequences when you repeatedly stole from me? When you framed me? When you fucked me and then treated me like a fucking prostitute?_"

"_Oh so that's what this is all about? You can't handle a middle aged mom using you for a quick fuck!"_

"_You're a fucking sociopath, you know that?"_

"_Ohhhh look who's talking... Mister I'll do anything to make a quick buck, including manipulating a woman who is literally at the lowest point in her life."_

"Oh you got yourself into that one, baby. You just kept digging that hole deeper and deeper until you buried yourself in the dirt."

She takes a shuddering breath and steps forward until she's a couple of feet away, then leans down and picks up the gun. He doesn't move as she takes his hands and puts the cold metal in his right palm and lifts his arm, pressing the muzzle against her forehead.

"Just get it over with."

…

He can feel his pulse raging through his body, pounding hot against the gun in his hand as she stares at him defiantly, begging for him to pull the trigger. He considers it for a moment, remembering the last time they were in the apartment together, her with mascara streaking her cheeks, him with the maniacal belief that she wouldn't turn the gun on him. He considers it as she purses her lips and closes her eyes. He considers it as he adjusts his hand and flexes his fingers into a more comfortable position.

He considers it until he doesn't, and tosses the gun aside. And then his hands are buried in her hair, lips on hers, and he's kissing her like he did that day in her bedroom, all teeth and lips and hot breaths. He can feel her hands clutching at his chest, and sliding up until one is hooked around his neck, and she pulls him to her until his lips feel bruised and tender against hers.

And he has a weird feeling in his chest when she pulls away from him, breathing ragged and whispers "please stop using me as a toy," because it's never been about that.

"I..." He trails off. Her eyes are still closed, she's tugging her head away, and all of a sudden he feels a rush of sadness. His fingers are still tangled up and she shrinks back, jerking to try and tug them free. He grips harder and pulls her chin up. "Look at me."

She shakes her head.

He shuts his eyes and presses his forehead against hers. Her breath is hot on his chin and smells of coffee and bourbon. He shuffles his feet until her back is facing the kitchen, and they're moving toward the counter. His voice is stuck in his throat, and it takes a moment for him to choke out the words. "You make me lose myself, you know that?" He bites his lower lip and lets out a long breath through his nose. "I dont…"

"Shut up."

"I don't u-" He's pressing her against the cold stainless steel now, and she's trailing her fingers down the placket of his shirt.

"Shut _up,"_ she interrupts, and plucks at his top button.

And he lets it happen. He lets her undress him until he's in nothing but his socks and boxer briefs, standing in the cool air of an empty apartment as she shimmies out of her jeans and shoves them to the floor. He lets her lift his feet one at a time to remove his socks, and tug his underwear down and dig her nails into his ass as she slides back up his body.

"Take off my shirt."

His eyes flutter open, and he does as she says one button at a time, until he's tugging down the straps of her bra and shoving it down, not bothering with the clasp.

"Tell me what you want from me." Her voice is demanding, and it's that moment that he realizes they're one and the same.

The question hangs in the air, and he's lost for words. Unsure how to react when he's let down the reinforced wall that's been his facade for more than a decade.

"Everything. I want everything."

_End._


End file.
